


Catch and Release

by etamiss



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Humiliation, Light Bondage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Puppy Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:58:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4602450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etamiss/pseuds/etamiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iron Bull helps Trevelyan relieve some tension. </p><p>Written for the <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/13890.html?thread=56723266#t56723266">kink meme prompt</a>: "I have a serious need for f!Inquisitor playing the part of a puppy for her love interest. Please let it be consensual for everyone involved."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch and Release

"Am I supposed to know what these are?"

Bull's hand is warm as it moves up the back of Trevelyan's calf. She's flat on her stomach on the bed, still tingling from the friction of Bull's stubble against her inner thighs, and she's half-expecting a slap to the ass when she glances back over her shoulder, eyebrow raised.

No slap comes, just a shrug when Bull says, "They're kneepads."

His thumb rubs the back of her knee as she frowns. "Why do you have kneepads?"

"This may surprise you," Bull says, reaching up to pluck one out of her hands, "but they go on your knees." He works it over her ankle by way of demonstration, tugging it up until the soft padding is fastened comfortably around her knee. "Even carpet can get painful if you're crawling. Also I've seen how grumpy you get when you're sore."

"I don't get grumpy," Trevelyan lies but rolls over onto her back to let him tug the second pad into place. 

His hands are huge as they brace against her foot, circling easily around her calf, and she reaches for her breasts with a soft moan as she thinks about those hands sliding higher.

Bull smirks when she catches a nipple between her finger and thumb, pinching just hard enough to take the edge off. "You want me to break out the mitts again?"

She doesn't mean to sigh quite so fondly at the thought but doesn't bother trying to retract it. After months on the run from templars and fellow apostates alike, she's getting used to not hiding from Bull.

"I'll take that as a yes," he says, leaning over the bed to kiss her on the lips. His hand finds hers, covers it, and she arches into the touch when he gives her breast a firm squeeze. "You in the mood for this kind of night, boss?"

She licks the taste of him off her lips as she nods. She's come once already, stripped down and riding Bull's mouth for an easy high, but after the sudden influx of nobility that morning, she's wound tight enough to need a more thorough release.

(She always hated smalltalk.)

Bull mouths along her jaw, fingers closing around her nipple in rebuke. "You non-verbal already?"

Smiling, Trevelyan elbows him in the arm. It's about as effective as elbowing a ham hock and her stomach grumbles a little as she says, for his benefit more than her own, "I'm in the mood for this kind of night." She eyes the floor in consideration. "Although possibly not for the whole night."

Bull's hand settles on her cunt, fingers not quite dipping inside her when he says, "Go pick out your favourites." 

It's followed by a gentle slap, palm landing over her clit, and Trevelyan shivers as she wriggles out from underneath him and wanders over to the chest by her desk. Bull carried it for her, hauling it up dozens of flights of stairs while Josephine visibly tried to convince herself it was for storing completely appropriate items. However, when Trevelyan pulls it open, she can't see a single thing that could be described as appropriate.

She buckles her collar of choice around her neck -- soft leather, picked up from a vendor in Crestwood -- and sets a couple more items on the desk before going for the mitts. These came from Haven, repurposed gloves with a couple of extra straps added, and she's happy for the soft lining as she slides them on and holds them up for Bull's attention.

For a big guy, he's surprisingly delicate when it comes to tying her down. He fastens the mitts with ease, trapping Trevelyan's fingers in place, and he gathers her hair back out of her face in a messy bun before kissing her cheek. "That all right, boss?"

Trevelyan nods. It's not as secure as she'd tie it -- one day she needs to teach him how to braid -- but since she plans to end the evening thoroughly dishevelled, she can't bring herself to be too concerned about her hair. 

Bull's lips curve in a smile as he presses one more kiss to her forehead before ordering, low and implacable, "Down on your knees."

It's the easiest thing in the world to sink to the floor. It's like sliding underwater, plummeting into the calm darkness below the surface, and as she settles on her hands and knees, it takes her a moment to catch her breath. 

Bull gives it to her, just as easily as he gives everything else. The pads are a welcome cushion against the hard floor and she moves from her hands to her elbows as she gets comfortable in the new position.

The testing tug on her collar is familiar but Trevelyan glances back in confusion when Bull's hand curls around her ankle. "What-"

That earns her a swat on the ass and Bull says, teasing, "I don't remember dogs talking. Unless this is some secret Fereldan thing I don't know about."

She rolls her eyes but keeps her mouth shut, even as Bull lifts her ankle up. There's rope coiled around his arm and realisation finally hits her when he bends her leg at the knee, cinching the rope around her thigh and ankle until her knee is the only part of her leg touching the floor. 

"You've got this," Bull promises, kissing the base of her spine as he finishes the knots. "Haven't you, girl?"

Trevelyan catches her tongue between her teeth. She's nowhere close to calling a time-out but it's all too tempting to let out a 'slow down' whine, especially when Bull binds her other leg in place to leave her balancing on just her knees. She whimpers, pushing back up to her hands and knees, but Bull's there before she can protest more, running a hand down her ribs and stroking under her chin as he says softly, "Good girl."

The praise is enough to quiet her doubts, at least for now, and Trevelyan lets herself relax, adjusting to the ropes around her legs as she crawls tentatively forward. 

Bull stands again, relocating himself to the armchair, and Trevelyan follows him over to get a pat to the head in reward. It's somehow simpler like this, filling the role of a pet rather than a person, and she looks up at Bull with a smile when he strokes behind her ear. 

"You're a pretty thing, aren't you?" he says, voice low and fond. "C'mon, go fetch for me."

There's a ball in his hands and Trevelyan follows the arc of it across the room when he lets it fly. It rolls to a stop by the bed and she's after it in seconds, crawling as quickly as her bound legs allow. 

As tiny as it looked in Bull's fingers, it's a struggle to fit the ball in her mouth and she feels drool slipping from her lips when she crawls back to sit at his feet. He forces her to hold it for a moment, running his thumb along her lower lip as a test, but more spit trails down when he finally takes the ball from her mouth. 

His other hand goes to her chest, smearing the mess over her breasts, and Trevelyan bites her lip at the familiar rush of humiliation that goes through her. It's a fine line but one which Bull walks with impressive precision as he rubs the ball clean on his thigh and lobs it across the room again. "Fetch."

She's slower this time, conscious of the picture she's presenting as she crawls directly away from him on her elbows and knees. It isn't lost on Bull, who shakes his head when she bends to retrieve the ball, ass raised in the air. "I knew we should've done this after we fucked."

Trevelyan pauses, eyebrows raised, as Bull pushes himself out of the chair and walks over to her. He pats her cunt with cruel ease, as though he can't feel how wet she is when he says, "It'd make a pretty picture, wouldn't it? You crawling around like this just _dripping_ for me." He crooks a finger under her chin, forcing her head up higher. "Could even have you lick it up as you went."

Trevelyan's whimper is muffled by the ball in her mouth but it does nothing to dim Bull's smile. "I'm guessing you'd like that."

She whines again, nodding, and he hums in contemplation as he reaches for her leash. "You be a good girl and next time we can make a mess."

The leash clips into place and Trevelyan slips that little bit deeper when Bull stands, tugging on the lead to coax her forward. Her legs and elbows ache, the ropes digging into her thighs, but it's far too easy to put that out of her mind and just follow when Bull walks her around the bedroom. 

Spit runs down her chin still, the ball clamped between her teeth, and she watches the slow thump of Bull's bare feet against the floor as she moves at her own pace.

"You know, we could always get a few of the soldiers involved," Bull says casually and Trevelyan whines because now this is just unfair. 

They both know third parties are out of the question -- at least not without lots of discussion, negotiation, and enough ground rules to carpet the whole of Skyhold -- but they also both know just how turned on Trevelyan gets at the thought of any of this taking place outside their bedroom.

Never one for restraint in these situations, Bull keeps talking, leading her around in a steady figure of eight as he says, "You could pick your favourites, of course. I'm sure Josephine could arrange interviews to find some willing recruits to fuck the Inquisitor raw." 

He tugs on the lead, keeping her close at heel as he paces. "We could leash you to a post in one of the towers and let them go to town. I'm sure you'd be loud enough, wouldn't you? Let the whole damn Inquisition know how much their leader loves being on all fours."

Effectively gagged by the ball, Trevelyan can't do much more than keep breathing as she crawls forward. She's hot all over, sweating from the exertion and lit up by arousal at the thought. Distantly, she knows it's not something she really wants -- the diplomatic headache alone of the Inquisitor spreading her legs for her troops is offputting enough -- but the fantasy sketched out in Bull's low, confident voice brings up a very pleasant picture of her locked in the stocks for a night of hard use.

She's panting when Bull finally comes to a stop, her chest heaving with every breath, and she moans in relief when he eases the ball out of her mouth. 

The fond smile is still on his lips, even as her leash stays wrapped around his hand, and she lifts her head for a kiss on the temple as he says, "I think you've earned a treat."

Trevelyan's fleeting hope that the treat will involve a thorough fuck is soon dashed when Bull steps aside to reveal two wooden bowls by the side of the bed. 

They're dog bowls, there's no mistaking that, and the hot flare of humiliation is back when she finally figures out what the treat is. 

"It's all yours," Bull says. His hand is heavy on the back of her neck but his fingers are gentle when they rake through her hair. "I got your favourite."

He did, Trevelyan realises. There's water in one bowl but the other holds a slice of ginger cake which had to have been smuggled out of the dining hall that evening. 

Oddly pleased that Bull would give up his dessert for her (if only to have her eat it for his enjoyment later that evening), she inches forward and settles on her elbows to take a bite. 

It's just as good as she remembers but as she spreads her thighs wider to keep her balance, she can't help but find the juxtaposition unsettling. She ate her first slice at the head table, flanked by a visiting marquis and countess who laughed politely at Josephine's anecdotes, and now she's naked and collared, eating out of a bowl like a dog while Bull watches.

When it comes to which she prefers, there's really no contest.

The water in the second bowl is cool and refreshing, and Trevelyan lets it splash against her cheeks before moving to finish off the rest of the cake. Bull's hand finds her inner thigh, stroking in reassurance but not moving any higher, even as she arches her back with a quiet plea.

"Damn," Bull says with a rueful smile, "if I'd have known you liked this so much, I would've had you eat your whole dinner like this." His hand is rough against the stubble burn on her thighs. "Set your bowls out in front of all those nobles and show them how much happier you are like this."

His hand moves that last inch higher and Trevelyan moans at the welcome touch to her cunt. 

"Could even invite them to feel for themselves," Bull says with a chuckle. He pulls away, standing again with the leash in his hand as Trevelyan laps at the water one last time. "How about it, girl? Would you like to go for a walk like this?"

Helplessly turned on, Trevelyan can't do much more than nod and follow when he leads her across the room again. Her cunt is soaked, smearing down her thighs as she crawls, and her clit aches with how badly she needs him to touch her. 

He stops by the table, palming the two clips she laid out, and Trevelyan grits her teeth in an effort to keep from pressing a hand to her clit. The sharp press of pain against her nipples would be a welcome distraction but Bull doesn't allow her even that when he heads back over to the armchair.

"I could lead you around the battlements like this," he offers, "but only after you've finished your dinner and you've had your fill of the soldiers." He tilts his head in contemplation. "I wonder what would be a bigger mess -- the food on your face or their come trickling out of you." 

He grins. "I'd go with the come, personally. If I was a soldier, I'd want you covered in it." He drops to a seat and traces a path down her ribs as he murmurs, "All over your face, your hair, your tits… I know they're no qunari but you'd still be dripping with it."

It's an effort for Trevelyan to keep her mouth shut when she settles back on her heels. Soldier or not, Bull already seems to like when she finishes their sessions a sticky, come-covered mess but the thought of being led through Skyhold like that makes a dark twist of want unfurl low in her belly.

She parts her knees, looking up at him hopefully, and Bull cups her jaw as he asks, "You want to come, girl?"

Trevelyan nods, adding a pleading whine for good measure. He never fucks her like this, preferring to maintain the thin pretence of the roleplay, but she's always been desperate enough to find an alternative release. 

She pauses, however, when he reaches down to lift her bodily into his lap. He's hard already and she searches his face for a clue as she settles astride one of his thighs. 

"No bedpost today," he says, kissing her neck, and Trevelyan's cheeks heat at the memory of having to rub herself against the bedpost to reach completion. "You're going to come right here so I can see all of you." 

He pushes his thigh up between her legs, the firm width of it nudging against her cunt. "It's all yours."

The friction does nothing to calm the heat surging through her and Trevelyan moans as she gives an experimental roll of her hips. She's slick already, wet from her first orgasm of the night and wetter from the time spent on her knees, and her cunt slides easily against his thigh while she searches for an angle that works. 

It doesn't take her long to find one. Bull's thigh is solid and warm beneath her, his hands coming up to rest on her ass, and she cants her hips forward when she finally gets some much-needed pressure on her clit. The mitts stop her from clinging onto him but she rests her bound hands on her chest for balance as she closes her eyes, grinding down with renewed enthusiasm once she hits her stride.

Her eyes fly open again when something taps against her nipple and she looks down to see the two clips in Bull's hand. 

"I knew I was forgetting something," he says with a grin that looks anything but forgetful. 

She arches her back, still moving against his thigh as she offers her breasts for his attention, but only gets a scolding tap to the nipple again in response. 

"Not exactly what I was thinking," Bull says, rapping the peg against her chin. "Open wide."

Confused, Trevelyan obeys but groans when Bull gestures for her to stick out her tongue. The pegs pinch when he clips them both in place on her tongue but the pain is secondary to the embarrassment of having her mouth held open, her tongue hanging out as she pants for breath.

She's so wet she can barely stand it.

His hands return to her hips, cupping her ass and helping to lift her into every downward movement. Her legs are shaking from the effort, her thighs still bound to her ankles, and Trevelyan welcomes the help as she chases every last scrap of friction she can get.

"Such a good girl," Bull says. He gives her ass a squeeze of encouragement and wipes the mess from her chin with the other. "Show me how much you want this, come on."

Trevelyan groans, arching under Bull's hands when she finds the sweet spot yet again. The heat builds inside her, sweat and spit running between her breasts as she rides Bull's thigh with all the energy she has left, and she looks down to see a knowing grin on Bull's lips, right before he lifts his leg beneath her.

She comes before she can stop herself. Her release tears through her, deeper and hotter than her first, and she moans past the pegs on her tongue as she presses down into every last wave of it. She tips forward, burying her head in Bull's shoulder while she trickles back down from the high, and she sighs at the feel of Bull's huge hands smoothing up and down her spine. 

The vibrations rumble through her when he says, "Good job, boss."

The pride in his voice is infectious and Trevelyan finds herself smiling when he unclips the pegs from her tongue. "Maker's balls…"

"I didn't think you'd get that," Bull admits, making quick work of the buckles on her mitts. "I was ready to use my hands and everything."

Trevelyan smiles. "What did I tell you about underestimating me?"

"Hey, at least now we have a strategy for defeating Corypheus," Bull teases. "Put him between you and getting off and you'll turn him to paste before he can blink."

"Hmm," she says, letting him gather her into his lap as he works on the ropes around her thighs. "I'll let you present that plan to Cullen."

Bull chuckles, unwinding the rope from her legs, and Trevelyan winces at the cramp that races down her calf. "Shit."

Bull's brow creases with concern. "Are you hurt? Is it your knees?"

"No, the kneepads were good," she says, patting his chest and stretching her leg out. "It's just cramp."

His hands are on her instantly, massaging down her calf, and she relaxes back against him as the sharp pain subsides. "Mm, better."

"Just as well you don't need to do any more walking until tomorrow," Bull says. His cock brushes her hip when she shifts in his lap and Trevelyan leans up for a kiss as she contemplates how soon she'd be up for round three.

She gets her answer when Bull's tongue curls against hers, his thumb tracing the rope marks on her ankles as the rolling heat inside her begins to simmer again. 

"So," she says when they finally break apart, "bed?"

She's airborne in a heartbeat. 

Scooped up safely in Bull's arms, she meets his gaze with a grin as he says happily, "I thought you'd never ask."


End file.
